


Patching Up

by sanctuary_for_all



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Foggy's voice was ragged at the edges. "There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to sleep tonight unless I can convince myself you're not bleeding internally."</em>
</p><p>Matt and Foggy slowly put each other back together. </p><p>(Post season 1, but not a lot in the way of detailed spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For Matt, the sounds of the city were nothing compared to the single heartbeat moving around his apartment. He listened from the roof, tracing its route back and forth across the living room. It was faster than normal, most likely due to stress or anxiety, and louder to Matt than even the sound of footsteps. The person didn't speak, but Matt didn't need them to.

He already knew that heartbeat, almost better than he knew his own.

Matt swung down to the fire escape, his body protesting the whole way. There was nothing he needed to bother Claire for – the blood loss was minor, and nothing was actually broken – but he didn't want Foggy to see him like this. As grateful as he was that the other man could joke about his body armor, he wanted as few reminders of Daredevil as possible between them.

The moment his feet touched metal, however, he heard Foggy stand up and move toward the bedroom. Matt hesitated for just a second, but there was no help for it. The only other option was to run away from his best friend, and that was never going to happen.

By the time he'd opened the window, Foggy's hands were there on the other side. His heartbeat had slowed down, closer to its normal rhythm. "You seriously need a secret entrance," he muttered, reaching to help Matt inside.  Unfortunately, Foggy placed his hand against a particularly sore spot – he was _nearly_ certain his ribs weren't broken – and Matt couldn't stop himself from wincing.

Foggy jerked his hand back. "Damn it, Matt." He took a step back while Matt made it the rest of the way inside, his swallow a tiny sound.

"It's okay." Matt pulled his mask off, careful around his scraped cheek. "Looks worse than it is."

Foggy let out a breath. "Forgive me if I don't trust your judgment in that area." He scrubbed his hands across his face, then gestured to the bed. "Off with it. I know you don't like to call Claire unless you're dying, but I'm capable of at least managing bandages."

Matt didn't move for a moment, thrown by the unexpected offer. "It's okay, Foggy," he tried, throat oddly tight. "I can—"

"I'm sure you can." Foggy's voice was ragged at the edges. "But there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to sleep tonight unless I can convince myself you're not bleeding internally."

Matt's chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with his physical injuries. "There's a first-aid kit under the bed."

He peeled off the rest of the body armor while Foggy got the kit, then the workout top he wore underneath. Foggy set the kit on the bed, then left for a moment. Matt heard him moving around in a kitchen, and when he came back he placed a cold pack in Matt's hand. "Put this on your ribs," he said quietly, turning on the light before sitting down next to him on the bed.

Matt held the cold pack against his ribs, trying to focus on his breathing instead of Foggy's careful hands. "I see a bright career in nursing in your future," he said lightly, the words not quite as steady as he might have hoped. He hadn't realized how much he and Foggy had touched each other until they'd stopped doing it, and he missed it more than he'd ever be willing to admit.

"Hey, it's either research basic medical skills or drink every time you make the news." He could see from the position of Foggy's head that he wouldn't look up at him. "I thought that this was probably better on my liver."

"Yeah." Matt ached to reach out and touch him, curling his fingers into a fist to help him fight the urge. "But it isn't what you came here for."

Foggy applied antiseptic to a wound. "Yeah, it was, actually." The words were tight, but there was no change in his heartbeat. "Only way to stop myself from picturing you bleeding in a dumpster somewhere."

Matt wished he could deny the possibility, but he tried hard not to lie to Foggy anymore. "I do patrols all the time. Normally, there's not a problem."

"Yeah, except the fact that you call bruised ribs 'not a problem' is kind of a problem for me." Foggy smoothed a bandage down on Matt's shoulder, fingers tightening for just a moment. "I used to worry about you falling into manholes, Matt. How do you expect me to be okay with this?"

Foggy's voice cracked on the last question, the sound of it like broken glass against the inside of Matt's chest. "I don't know," he said quietly, dropping the ice pack so he could cover Foggy's hand with his. "Just don't go. Please."

Foggy went still at that, and Matt could hear his heart jump. Then he leaned forward, forehead resting against Matt's shoulder. "Damn it, Matt," he whispered, voice choked with emotion.

"I know," Matt whispered back, curving his hand around the back of Foggy's head to hold him there for a little while. Eyes stinging, he pressed his lips against his best friend's hair. "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

After that, Foggy would be waiting at his apartment sometimes.

It was never a regular thing, no matter how much Matt might want it to be, but he wasn’t about to push for more. So he just hoped, tried to make it back to his apartment a little earlier whenever he could, and always, always listened for the sound of Foggy’s heartbeat.

Foggy always insisted on patching him up, and even if his body didn’t already tell Matt how injured he was he could always tell by the tone of Foggy’s voice. It didn’t make Matt take any more care not to get those injuries – he never even thought about it until after, when he was about to face Foggy – but he was grateful for those nights when he’d been hurt a little less.

Sometimes, if he was very lucky, Foggy stayed for a little while afterward. They had a beer, maybe, or Foggy told him stories about things he’d missed when he was off being Daredevil instead of a real person. Occasionally, when Foggy asked, Matt would tell carefully edited stories about the safer parts of his patrols. There was a particular silent quality from Foggy that suggested he knew there were things Matt wasn’t saying, but he never asked for details.

Tonight was a beer night, even though a week of chasing drug runners had left him exhausted. Foggy had noticed, but hadn’t pushed when Matt had told him he was fine. He was, no matter what his body might have had to say about the matter – having Foggy there was much more important than sleep.

What he forgot, though, was that the human body was pretty good at sneak attacks.

“…and then the aliens showed up again. I’m their new overlord, which means we’re going to have to fit a throne into the office somehow.”

Matt meant to say “That’s nice,” but what came out was only a vaguely affirmative sound. He couldn’t make himself care, though – this was the _good_ way of falling asleep, the kind he hadn’t really gotten to experience since he was a kid. The kind of sleeping where you could felt warm and safe, wrapped up in sheets that smelled like home, and you could just sort of snuggle in and enjoy it.

“Man, you really are out of it, aren’t you?” Foggy’s voice, softer than it had been for awhile now. “Okay, let’s see if I can just….”

There was a shift beneath his cheek, the scent of home slipping away, and even nearly asleep Matt made an instinctive grab for it. That movement was enough to kick the rest of his brain back into gear with the immediate information that the person he was grabbing onto was Foggy. He was using Foggy’s shoulder as a pillow, and had stopped him when Foggy had tried to leave because… because….

Matt shot upright. “Sorry.” He scrubbed his hands across his face, trying very hard not to think about anything. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?” He thought back to the last bit of the conversation he remembered, brow furrowing. “Aliens?”

Foggy made a sound that might have almost been a laugh. “What I was _actually_ saying is that I should go home, and you should go to bed.” Foggy stood, and Matt clenched his fists to keep from grabbing him again. “Clearly, you need the sleep.”

“You don’t have to go.” Matt tried hard not to sound desperate, but was pretty sure he failed miserably. “I’m fine, really.”

Foggy went still at that, and Matt could feel the weight of his best friend’s gaze on him. “Nightmares?” he asked finally, voice quiet.

Matt forced his hands to relax. “No.” No more than usual, at least. “I just… you don’t have to go.”

_Stay. Please stay._

He swallowed, clamping his lips closed on words he had no right to say. Foggy’s heartbeat was starting to speed up, just a little, and he knew he’d pushed into territory he shouldn’t have. “But you can, if you want. I know how long I’ve kept you. You need sleep, too.”

Foggy’s heartbeat was even faster now, and Matt braced himself for whatever he was going to say. Then Foggy let out a breath, hand lifting to rub across his mouth. “I thought you were humoring me.”

Matt’s head shot up again, turning towards the sound of his best friend’s voice. “What?”

“With this.” Foggy waved a hand at them both. “You clearly got by just fine without a nursemaid, but you put up with it because you saw how upset I was.”

It was hard to think past the shock, which was the only excuse Matt had for what tumbled out of his mouth next. “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d break into your apartment on the days you don’t show up just so you could—” He stopped himself far too late, then dropped his face into his hands. “No. Never mind. Pretend I never said that.”

He waited, not moving, for Foggy to go. It was for the best, he told himself. He’d let the walls come down too far during these late night visits, Daredevil and Matt blending together and both of them needing whatever pieces of Foggy they could get. He used to be better at keeping the walls up, before he’d been reminded of what life was like without Foggy. It would be better for them both if he could figure out how to do it again.

But Foggy didn’t move, his heart still thrumming along a little faster than usual. “You could, you know,” he said finally, the words barely a breath.

Matt lifted his head again, too scared to acknowledge the spark of hope unfurling in his chest. He swallowed again, voice scratchy. “I could what?”

“Break into my apartment.” The words were steadier now, humor threading through them. “Okay, I’d rather you not ‘break in,’ because enough stuff goes out on its own that I’d rather not encourage the process. But … I could leave a window unlocked.” He paused, the lightness in his voice replaced by something more solemn and fragile. “If you wanted.”

Matt’s eyes filled. “Yeah.” The word was shaky. “I’d like that.”

Foggy made a relieved sound, heartbeat kicking in his chest. “Okay, then, we’ve got that settled.” He moved closer, smoothing a hand over Matt’s hair. “Now, though, I should go. You need to get some sleep.”

Matt leaned into the touch. “I need you too, Foggy,” he whispered.

He heard Foggy swallow, and when he spoke again his voice was thick. “Good to know.”


	3. Chapter 3

Matt meant to take Foggy up on his offer. Some nights, he wanted to more than anything.

But there was a new player in town. All he'd gotten so far was a name – Mrs. Fisk – and the impression that she was maintaining what was left of WIlson's empire while he was out of the game. He knew there had to be more than that – Wilson's girlfriend, Vanessa, had disappeared the night he was arrested – but no one he'd shaken down had much to tell him. He still cherished every night he got with Foggy, but he couldn't ask for more. There was too much for Daredevil to do.

That didn't mean, though, that he couldn't keep an ear open. If he was anywhere close to their offices, or Foggy's apartment, a part of him was always filtering through the sounds of the city for one particular voice. He couldn't be there like he wanted to, but he could at least make sure he was safe. Mostly, Foggy's voice was like background music, mingling with Karen's when they worked late or went to Josie's or making friendly conversation with the woman at the corner bodega.

Until one night.

"...we don't have to do this. Here's my wallet, I'm handing it over, no—"

Matt had already started running at the first word, but when Foggy's voice broke off into grunts of pain he moved even faster. He leapt across buildings, the fury in him rising as he followed the sound, and when he found the right alleyway he jumped down without hesitation and landed on top of the first man.

He brought him to the ground, fists in his face to cut off the initial pained shout. He would have done more, but his partner ran over to assist and Matt stood up just in time to send him flying over his shoulder.  The first guy had struggled to his feet by that point, but a swift kick took him down. The second guy tried a choke hold, but a billy club jabbed into his stomach knocked the air out of him enough to make him relax his grip. Matt broke free, taking him down with a sweep of the arm.

When they were both down, he grabbed them by the front of their collars and threw them down on the ground. "Who do you work for?" he growled, fear only making the rage inside him sharper. They'd been too easy to take down to be professionals, but that didn't mean they still didn't work for Mrs. Fisk somehow. And if they knew Foggy as more than just a lawyer in Hell's Kitchen, if they realized he was someone that could make the Daredevil come running.... "Give me a name!"

"What the hell you talking about, you crazy motherfucker!?" one of the men shouted. "We ain't doing nothing but showing that punk ass suit over there who's—"

Matt slammed his fist into the guy's face to cut off the rest of the sentence, then turned to the smaller man. "You have anything more useful to say?"

He could hear the smaller man breathing hard, like he was hyperventilating. "We didn't mean nothing by it, man, just—"

Matt grabbed him by his collar, jerking him upward. "You didn't _mean_ anything by it!? It wasn't enough to rob the man, you decided to _beat_ him for kicks? Just another night out with the boys?" He reared back, ready to slam the man's head down as the sounds of Foggy being beaten still echoed in his ears. "I guess I should show you how it feels from—"

He stopped when he felt a hand grab his shoulder. "Hey." He'd been too distracted to hear Foggy move, the hammering of his heartbeat no less than it had been when he was being attacked. "Hey. It's done. I called 911. The police are on their way."

Matt could hear the pain in Foggy's voice, even under the cajoling tone meant to talk people off of ledges. The fury struggled, not done yet, but he didn't want the devil inside him anywhere near Foggy. He wasn't hearing disgust yet, or anger, but he could if he let himself go too far.

He knocked the man out, far more efficiently than he'd meant to, and pushed himself to his feet. Foggy stepped back, the relief obvious in his voice. "Well, that was exciting. A part of me wants to grab my wallet, but it will definitely help the evidence if it's still technically in the mugger's possession when the cops get here."

Matt could hear the unsteadiness Foggy was trying so hard to hide, and he burned with the need to reach out for him. But no one could know that this was anything more than a normal night's rescue for Daredevil. He took a step back. "Go straight home after the cops come to collect these two."

Foggy stopped breathing for a second, then he swallowed. "I get it." He sounded far more tired than he had even a few seconds ago. "Have to finish your patrol. Sure. I get it."

Matt's chest ached at the resignation in Foggy's voice. "Promise me."

"Fine." Foggy waved an arm in the general direction of "away." "Go."

Matt went, moving to the shadows of a nearby roof to keep watch until the cops got there. One of the officers offered to drive him home, and Matt moved where he needed to in order to listen the whole way. Then he hurried back to his apartment, became Matt Murdock again, and went straight to Foggy's.

He pounded on the door, listening for the sounds of Foggy getting up and heading for the door. "Listen, officer, I'll be happy to give a statement, but I'd really prefer it if you could—" The words cut off as the front door swung open, Foggy's heartbeat stuttering a little when he saw who was on the other side. "Matt," he breathed. "I thought...."

Without saying a word, Matt dragged Foggy into a hug and held on as tightly as he could. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in Foggy's ear. "I wanted to do this in the alleyway, but I couldn't risk—"

"It's okay," Foggy murmured, holding on just as tightly. "Daredevil had you. I get it."

"No. He just...." Matt swallowed. "He can't have you. As much as he might want to, I can't risk it. Which means he can't—"

"I know." Foggy cut him off, voice gentle and a little sad. He pulled back enough to look at him. "But that doesn't mean Matt can't show up here when the shift's done, right?"

The knot inside Matt's chest loosened just a little. "No, it doesn't."

"Then come on." He grabbed Matt's arm, the fact that his grip was just a little tighter than it should have been proof that he was still rattled. "I'm not really in any shape to sleep right now, and there's an X-Files rerun on I can describe to you in ridiculous detail." He paused. "Your whole fire sense doesn't work on TV, right?"

"No." Matt shook his head. "It's all flat to me."

"Well, good." He tugged Matt inside. "Believe me, my color commentary is much better than the picture, anyway."

Smiling, Matt let himself be pulled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I'm kind of mean in this chapter. Sorry.

The worst came, as it always did. But not in the way Matt expected it to.

The woman Matt was nearly certain was Vanessa Marianna did finally slip up, but it was a matter of paperwork rather than violence or blood. A local small business owner was caught up in a larger hostile takeover of an entire block, and the three of them had managed to tie some of the shell companies to ones owned by Fisk. The initial shell corporation had settled quickly, clearly not wanting anyone to take a closer look, and other affected business owners had approached them. Currently, the group was preparing a countersuit, and Matt, Foggy and Karen were pursuing every lead they could get their hands on.

Daredevil put even more effort into his patrols, keeping a close eye on both Foggy and Karen to protect them from any potential reprisals. There was no one watching, however, when the man moved to keep pace with Matt Murdock on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the afternoon. "Mrs Fisk would like a word with you," he said, voice pitched for Matt's ears alone.

Matt didn't slow down at all, tightening his grip on his cane. "Tell her to make an appointment, then."

"Mrs. Fisk doesn't do appointments."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help her. There's a very strict client procedure in place."

"Too bad. Maybe we'll just have to get in touch with your partner."

Matt's heart stopped for a second at the implied threat, just like the man had known it would. If he'd been in the mask, in a filthy alleyway somewhere surrounded by the sheltering darkness, he would have beaten the man bloody for even hinting at hurting Foggy. 

Matt Murdock, however, was supposed to be a perfectly average blind man who didn't have the spatial awareness to take on anyone in a fight. They already knew that Foggy was one of Matt's buttons. All it would take was a single punch that connected too precisely, an elbow jab aimed where a blind man wasn't supposed to be able to see, and the line between Matt and Daredevil would disappear rapidly. Everyone in his life would spill over to become a target, just like Claire had.

He imagined the pain in Foggy's voice, just like it had been in Claire's.

"Fine." He could hear the hum of a security camera nearby, lingering in what he hoped was the most likely spot it was pointing. It was useless, he suspected, but that was all he could think of to do. "I take it she wants this meeting now?"

"Indeed."

Matt could hear a car pull up next to the curb as the man grabbed his arm. Then he felt the sting of a needle against his neck, and even the fire went out.

000

He woke up someplace cold, a warehouse of some kind judging by the sound of the echoes. His jacket was gone, as was his phone, and he'd been handcuffed to the chair he was sitting on. There were four guards stationed in a square around him. In front of him was a woman, her heartbeat as steady and slow as someone enjoying a day at the park. "Mrs. Fisk, I presume?"

"You are correct, Mr. Murdock." He recognized Vanessa's voice, though there was a harder edge to it than had been there before. "It is a pity we're not here to discuss art."

"It's never a bad time to discuss art." He kept his voice light, easy. "I still need something to hang in my living room."

Vanessa made a tsking noise, shaking her head. "No more games, Mr. Murdock. You know why you are here."

"I don't, actually." That part was actually true, though there were several possibilities that terrified him. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Do not pretend." She moved closer, always staying out of arm's reach. "I know how much you hate my Wilson. There is only one other man in this city whose feelings on the matter are as passionate as yours. I cannot imagine the two of you have not crossed paths before this."

So she thought he and Daredevil were working together. That, unfortunately, was one possibility he'd never considered. "Still have no idea what you mean."

Vanessa lunged forward, giving him a hard slap across the cheek. "Don't play coy with me, Mr. Murdock. The Devil knows too much not to have informants. I would guess it's your little secretary, the one you saved from the murder charge, but you can almost feel the fear that is wrapped around her. You, on the other hand, have a shark's smile. I saw it when you looked at Wilson, though at the time I couldn't recognize it for what it was." She grabbed his chin. "You have blood in your teeth, Mr. Murdock, and I have the eyes to see it now. Don't insult us both by pretending it isn't true."

He jerked his head away from her. "Doesn't mean I know Daredevil."

"If that's the way you insist on doing this, fine." She stepped back, out of the immediate line of fire, and the four guards converged on him. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to fight back, to at least defend himself, but it was too much of a risk that he would slip up and do something Matt Murdock wasn't supposed to be able to do.

It did him no good to anticipate the blows, not when he couldn't do anything about them, but he couldn't stop himself from cataloguing them as they landed. A punch to the face. A kick to the sternum, then one to the thigh. Shoulder, stomach, cheek, thigh, chest, cheek. The chair had fallen over, the pain of crashing onto the cement running together with everything else.

"Tell us who he is, Mr. Murdock." Vanessa spoke again, still sounding so calm and reasonable. "All you have to do is give us a simple name, and I promise you all your suffering will stop."

The world blurred a little as the pain dulled his senses, though he was all too aware that he tasted blood. He couldn't stand up, not with the chair, but kept his voice cocky and hoped his father forgave him. "Life is suffering."

"Yes, it is." She paused, as if looking down at him. "Perhaps if he heard you scream, he'd come running."

This time, they used their weapons. Metal rods, baseball bats, and the ever-blurring world became nothing more than a symphony of pain. If he didn't survive this, there would be no one to defend Hell's Kitchen. And Vanessa would likely find out his ties to Daredevil anyway, once her masked nemesis suddenly stopped showing up.

He could hear his ribs crack, feel the jagged edge of them inside his chest.

But if he did fight back, he would need to kill all of them. He hadn't been able to make himself definitively kill anyone, not yet, and he'd need to put down all five of them if he wanted there to be any hope of keeping Foggy and Karen safe. And even if he did, Wilson would learn that Vanessa was dead, and all too easily tie it back to either Matt or Daredevil. Whichever he chose, no one Matt loved would survive the experience.

"Scream for him, Mr. Murdock," Vanessa said. "Even if you do not know him, surely this Devil you're all so fond of would rush to save someone in such obvious pain."

With him dead, though, the Wilsons might lose interest in Foggy and Karen. Their greatest enemy would be gone, and he could pray that Foggy and Karen would keep their fights to the courtroom. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it was the only chance he had.  The potential for life, however small, against the certainty of death. If he was advising a client, he would tell him to take the deal.

So be it.

_I'm so sorry, Foggy._

"Scream for him!" Vanessa shouted, raising her voice to carry over the sound of weapons hitting flesh. "Scream for your Devil to come save you!"

Matt didn't scream. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

_Most sacred heart of Jesus, I accept from Your hands whatever kind of death it may please You to send me this day, with all its pains, penalties and sorrows...._

As the world slipped away, he heard the sound of gunshots. He flinched, expecting to feel them any second, when he heard the sound of doors bursting open in the distance and police officers shouting for people to stand down. Then a heartbeat, far more familiar than his own no matter how fast it was racing. "Matt!"

"Foggy." He could barely see even the fire anymore, his senses struggling, but he felt it when Foggy's arms came around him. "You found me."

"Of course I did." Matt could hear the tears in Foggy's voice as he dragged Matt, chair and all, onto his lap. "You've just got to stay with me, okay, buddy? The ambulance will be here any second."

That didn't seem quite fast enough. "I'll try."

"No. No trying. There will be only doing." Foggy clutched him tighter, making the broken ribs and a dozen other injuries hurt even more. But he would never make Foggy let go. Not ever. "Don't you dare leave me, Matt. Don't you dare."

"Sorry." Matt regretted that his hands weren't free, denying him the possibility of reaching up and touching Foggy one last time. Instead, he turned his head so he could rest his cheek against Foggy's stomach. He breathed him in, all that was warm and good in Matt's small world. It had been everything, a blessing far greater than any he'd deserved.

No matter that he'd wondered if there was more, sometimes. A flicker of possibility, of yearning, that would die out with the rest of him.

"Wish I'd kissed you, though." The words were a breath. "Just once. So I could take it with me."

"Matt? Damn it, Matt, you're not going anywhere. You've gotta stay with...."

As the world finally slipped away, the sound of Foggy's voice was the last thing to go.


	5. Chapter 5

Sensation came back first, a wash of pain he was all too familiar with. The smell of disinfectant in his nose. The beeping of hospital—

No. He couldn’t be here.

He tried to jerk upright, propelled by a desperate need to get out of sight before someone recognized him. He strained against the IVs holding him back, but two arms were suddenly there.

“Matt! It’s okay.” Foggy’s voice, desperate and exhausted. “You’re supposed to be here.”

Awareness came back, memories of the warehouse and being handcuffed to a chair. Bait, for Daredevil. Being beaten by her henchmen when he wouldn’t give up a name, and even harder when the masked man never came. Police sirens. Foggy.

Matt Murdock was allowed to go to the hospital.

He collapsed back onto the bed, pulling Foggy down with him. Before the other man could do anything, he wrapped his arms around him as far as the IVs would allow. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice as rough and beaten as the rest of him. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

Foggy stayed frozen for a moment, stiff and unyielding, then he pressed his face hard against the crook of Matt’s neck. He could feel the wetness of Foggy’s tears, and Matt felt his own eyes fill before Foggy pulled away to sit down again. He grabbed Matt’s hand, holding on tight. “Thought you’d probably want to know that Vanessa Marianna and her men have been arrested.”

Matt nodded, squeezing Foggy’s hand and ignoring the desperate need to be closer. If this was how Foggy wanted to play it, this is how they would play it. “Good.”

“Karen was here, but I sent her home to get some sleep. The police will probably be by in the morning to get—“ Foggy cut himself off, then swallowed. “Damn it, no.” The words were thick. “I can’t do it.”

The words sounded like an end, and Matt felt a spike of real fear. “Foggy—“

“What the _hell_ happened, Matt?” Foggy leaned close, sounding furious even though he was whispering. “You were nearly _dead_ , and those assholes didn’t even have a mark on them.”

“There can’t be any ties between Daredevil and Matt Murdock,” Matt whispered back, relief washing through him. If Foggy was still shouting, it wasn’t the end quite yet. “And I couldn’t trust myself to punch like a blind guy.”

Foggy’s voice was ragged. “So you just let them take you, and then planned on what, letting them beat you to death?”

“I couldn’t exactly give them Daredevil like they wanted." He wrapped both his hands around Foggy's. “And if I hadn’t let them take me, they said they were going to go after you.”

“Maybe you should have let them!” Foggy snapped, tears in his voice. "At least then I'd know you'd have fought."

Hearing Foggy's pain hurt in a way he'd never learned to block out. "And what if I hadn't been fast enough? What if I hadn't been good enough?" His throat was tight. "I know what happens to people who Daredevil spends too much time with, Foggy. I couldn't risk that with you."

Foggy let out a shaky breath. "Well, I'm getting pretty damn sick of risking you."

Matt swallowed. "Better me than you."

"No," Foggy said fiercely. "You think better you than everybody, as if the only reason you're supposed to be here is to burn yourself out taking a few of the bad guys with you."

He remembered Foggy, that horrible day after he'd found out about Daredevil. _But I only ever needed my friend_. "What if it is?" He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. "What if you're better off without me?"

"Bullshit." The word was low and furious. "I already tried that, and it was the most miserable few days of my entire fucking life. If that's your plan, you're no longer allowed to make plans."

He was torn between the entirely inappropriate urge to laugh or cry harder. "Okay, so what's your plan?"

"I haven't figured out that part yet, but there _is_ one thing I'm absolutely sure of." Foggy's heartbeat was completely steady, proof of how certain he was in what he was saying. "The other guy might belong to Hell's Kitchen, but Matt Murdock is _mine_. And I will do everything in my power to take care of him, even though it's not nearly enough."

Foggy's voice broke on the last word, and Matt's heart went right along with it. "It's enough, Foggy." He squeezed his hand tight. "It's so much more than I ever thought I'd get."

"So think for a second before deciding that getting yourself killed is the best option." The words were a rasp. "Because it sure as hell isn't going to be for me."

Not able to stand it anymore, Matt tugged him forward into another hug. “I’ll try,” he murmured, pressing his face against Foggy’s hair and breathing it in. “I don’t regret what I did, but I’ll try to be more careful.”

This time, Foggy let himself be held. “And for both our sakes, I won’t make you say that under oath.” He still sounded so tired. “Though in the future, no more near-death jokes. Definitely not the right time.”

Matt hesitated, not at all sure what Foggy was talking about. He didn’t really remember the last few minutes he’d been conscious, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to make a joke. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Foggy pulled back enough to look down at him. “The kiss comment. I know joking about stuff like that is a thing we do, but…”

Matt went cold. No. There was no way he would actually admit that out loud, not even as he was dying.

Foggy was still talking, but Matt’s face must have betrayed him – it was always so much harder to watch himself with Foggy – because the words trailed off. The breath left his lungs. “It wasn’t a joke,” Foggy said finally, sounding strangled. “ _Matt_.”

Matt shook his head. He’d always pretended it was a joke, because he was the one responsible for shutting down that early flicker of possible interest from Foggy before he’d known any better. But if that flicker had ever come back, if he’d ever gotten another chance…. “It’s fine.” He hoped his voice wouldn’t crack. “It’s better this way – no more secrets between us. I’m okay with the fact you don’t feel the same way—”

“Wait.” If anything, Foggy sounded even more stunned. His heart was racing. “How on earth could you—“ He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “You said you could tell when I was lying.”

Matt wasn’t sure where Foggy was going with this, but he was happy to move onto pretty much any other topic of conversation than his feelings. “It’s like a lie detector. It depends a lot on context, and whether there’s another explanation for how they’re reacting. It also helps if they’re making a direct statement, like they would during a—“

The words cut off when Foggy suddenly leaned forward again, filling Matt’s world with fire before touching his lips against his. The kiss was utterly gentle, a flicker of hope given physical form, and for just a second it chased away every aching place in Matt’s soul.

It was over too soon, Foggy pulling away again. Matt grabbed him, wanting to keep him close, but Foggy didn’t pull back very far. “I thought you knew,” he whispered. “When you told me you could hear lies, I was sure you’d figured it out a long time ago.”

Matt shook his head, throat tight. “No.” He lifted a hand to Foggy’s face, mapping the lines and curves in a way he hadn’t had the chance to since they were in school. “I thought I’d missed my chance.”

“Then your lie detector doesn’t work nearly as well as you think it does.” Matt moved his thumb down to the corner of Foggy’s mouth, so he could feel the smile he could hear in his voice. “Because I’ve been trying to pretend I wasn’t in love with you for _years_.”

“Ah.” Matt lost his own breath, chest full of all the feelings he’d tried so hard to box away. “Then you should probably kiss me again.”

He felt Foggy smile again as he leaned back down. “I think I can manage that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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